A Gentleman's Gentleman
by ethelbertina
Summary: Jack gets a surprise visit while away at a U.N.I.T. conference. Jack/Ianto established relationship. Here's the ninth and final chapter...
1. Chapter 1

A Gentleman's Gentleman – Chapter One

Jack stood on a small balcony, wrapped in his greatcoat, looking out over the formal gardens which glistened in the cold white light of the moon. Spending three days at a large estate in the rolling hills of Scotland would have been ideal under any other circumstances, but being forced to attend a U.N.I.T. conference wasn't Jack's idea of a good time. He had slipped out of the opening night cocktail reception. The cultured patter of career military types and their wives was something Jack had known too much of during his long life. He had found this small balcony off an upstairs hallway, decorated with a wrought iron garden set and a few evergreens in pots, and he hid himself away in the shadows, sipping his brandy, wishing he were anywhere but here.

His reverie was interrupted when the door behind him was pushed open. He turned to see one of the house staff in a tidy blue dress and white apron looking at him as if he was a naughty boy.

"Ach, there you are Captain Harkness. I've been turnin' the place upside down lookin' for you."

"Well now that you've found me, what can I do for you?" he asked, with a glint in his eye. The housemaid, Deirdre, blushed, but soldiered on in an earnest way which Jack found very attractive.

"Your Aide asked me to find you, and let you know that he had arrived. Were you expecting him, sir? We weren't notified."

"My AIDE?" Jack asked, dumbfounded. "No, I wasn't expecting him."

"_Who the hell is passing themselves off as my Aide?"_ Jack wondered to himself.

"We've found him a small room, Sir. He said he might have to stay for most of the conference to keep you up to date on events back in Cardiff. He said he'd wait for you in your room."

"Thank you, Deirdre. You run along, and I'll see to this matter right away." Jack handed the girl his half-empty glass of brandy and strode back into the house, the tails of his greatcoat swirling behind him. Deirdre found herself downing the last of Jack's brandy as she watched him walk away. The thought occurred to her that her daydreams might just be a little more exciting from now on, and she found herself blushing once again as she closed the doors and went back to her duties.

As Jack strode along the wide corridors, he got angrier and angrier. Bloody U.N.I.T. was always interfering. The last thing he needed was some flunky paper pusher following him around for the next three days. He was only here in the first place at the Queen's insistence.

"For Crown and Country, Captain…" the palace liaison's voice had purred at him over the phone.

"Crown and Country my ass," Jack grumbled as he turned the corner and went to open the door to his room. "I'd like to see what they'd do if I packed up and …"

He never got a chance to finish that thought. He had barely stepped into his room, which was illuminated only by the faint light from a bedside lamp, when he felt someone pinning him to the back of the door and kissing him with fierce intensity. Light bulbs and fireworks rocketed through Jack's brain at the same time.

"Ianto, oh Ianto," Jack whispered against the other man's mouth.

"Jack, stop talking and use that gorgeous mouth to kiss me…" Ianto growled.

Jack grabbed Ianto's arms and flipped him around so that Ianto was pinned up against the door, and kissed him nearly senseless. Ianto broke away from the kiss, desperate at having to stop, but just as desperate to breathe, to stop the world from spinning. He leaned his head back against the door trying to catch his breath.

Trying to restore his equilibrium, Ianto wove his arms around Jack's neck, running his fingers through Jack's hair and holding him close. He planted small butterfly kisses on Jack's eyelids, his nose, the dent in his upper lip, and the cleft in his chin. Between each kiss murmuring, "Missed you. So much. Need you. So much. So lonely without you."

Jack stood there, eyes closed, his fingers gently exploring as much of Ianto as he could reach, basking in the happiness that was radiating from the younger man. This was a man who never failed to surprise Jack, and Jack couldn't help but find this irresistible. Immortality had left the Captain faintly bored with living. He didn't think anything could surprise him anymore. And then Ianto had showed up one dark night and had slowly turned Jack's life upside down. That he could be standing in a room in the arms of this wonderful man, lost in the exquisite joy of the tiny kisses Ianto was peppering him with was a gift Jack had never expected to receive.

Forcing his brain to form coherent sentences, he finally found the words to ask Ianto a question.

"What are you doing here?"

Jack leaned back and locked eyes with Ianto, suddenly worried.

"Everything IS okay, isn't it?"

Ianto met his Captain's gaze with his steady blue eyes. "Everything's fine, Sir. The only thing wrong is that I couldn't stand to spend another day without you."

Ianto's gaze dropped, and he blushed, and hated himself for it. This wasn't him. He wasn't this needy. But Jack had turned his life upside down too. Ianto prided himself on his control. But the fact of Jack took Ianto's breath away. This terrible, wonderful man had taken everything from him, and then turned around and given him more than he could ever have asked for. He had given him more than he had any right to expect. And Ianto planned to spend the rest of his life showing Jack just how grateful he was. Besides, being with Jack was just plain fun.

Ianto had come to delight in their games, and he had had time to plan many new ones. Jack was in for one hell of a weekend.

Jack had been trying to pin down the gleam he saw in Ianto's eyes. Happiness was part of it, along with healthy doses of lust and longing, but Jack knew only too well what wicked things Ianto hid behind those placid blue eyes. And right now there was a telltale glint which told Jack that this conference had just gotten a whole lot more exciting.

"What are you up to Yan?" Jack asked, grinning that patented Harkness grin.

"Classified, Sir. It's on a need to know basis. And you don't need to know. Yet."

Ianto straightened the knot on his tie and tucked it back into his waistcoat. He reached up and smoothed Jack's hair back into place, and with a quick caress of his lovers cheek, he turned towards the door.

"Now, I've driven a long way and I think I deserve a drink and some lousy hors d'oeuvres. If you behave yourself, I might just find time later tonight to brief you on some recent discoveries by your very talented Archivist."

Stepping to the door, Jack opened it, and gestured to Ianto to precede him. In a somewhat overloud voice, he announced, "Right this way Mr. Jones. If you'llaccompany me to the reception, I'll be able to give you an overview of the conference activities."

"Yes, Sir. I look forward to assisting you in any way I can."

"You know Jones, this conference is starting to be full of surprises."

"Oh, sir, you have no idea. I have filled your schedule with a variety of interesting sessions."

"For Crown and Country, eh Ianto?"

Ianto, following just to Jack's right and a half a pace behind, his suit and his bearing marking him as the world's most perfect aide-de-camp, stepped forward just as Jack was about to lead him into the reception hall and said, just loud enough for Jack to hear, "What I have planned… the Queen will definitely NOT be privy to."

Stunned, Jack froze for just a moment, and then before he could take another step into the room, Ianto snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, handed one to Jack, touched the two glasses together and said with a leer he had learned from his companion, "Bottom's up, Jack."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – At Break of Day

When Ianto sent Jack back to his room after they'd made the rounds of the opening night reception, smilingly telling him he'd "join him in a little while," Jack was eager to find out what would follow. Twenty minutes or so after he'd returned to his room, there was a sharp, brusque knock on his door and he never expected to be confronted with what he saw when he responded to the knock. Standing before him in full UNIT kit –- boots, camouflage uniform, utility belt, sidearm, and that unmistakable red beret -- was a serious faced soldier (with very familiar blue eyes) who saluted sharply and announced, "Reporting for duty as requested, Sir."

Jack's eyes sparkled as he eyed up the soldier with a practiced gaze and replied in a voice he had rarely used since some time towards to end of the Second World War.

"Enter and stand at the ready, soldier."

"Yes, Sir!"

Jack closed the door, turned and continued his inspection of the soldier before him. He adjusted the angle of the beret, and then curiosity got the better of him, and with hands clasped behind his back, he asked, "Tell me soldier, what are your orders?"

"I have them here, Sir, if you'd care to inspect them." The soldier had a dossier stamped "classified" tucked under his arm. He handed it to a highly amused Jack, who opened it and read the single sheet of paper it contained. The orders read:

"_In light of Captain Jack Harkness's recent temporary reassignment to Lethbridge House, Scotland, Torchwood III has requested, and has been granted the assistance of UNIT Auxiliary Support Officer Ianto Jones, until such time as Captain Harkness has no further need of his able assistance. ASO Jones has been informed of your dislike of this transfer, and he has been charged with providing whatever positive reinforcement might be necessary for you to look fondly upon this posting._

_It is acknowledged that the Scottish highlands can be a dangerous place, so please make sure that ASO Jones is thoroughly schooled in all manner of personal defense techniques, especially instances of hand to hand combat. Close-order drills may be necessary, and may be instituted at Captain Harkness's discretion. ASO Jones is yours to command."_

Jack took full advantage of his orders…

When he woke just after dawn the next morning, there was not a trace of Ianto in his suite, other than a pair of dog tags lying on what Jack had rather sheepishly come to think of as Ianto's side of the bed. Jack smiled when he realized that the dog tags were the only things Ianto had been wearing by the time they had finally fallen asleep soon after their third foray into what Ianto had laughingly christened "Night Maneuvers."

As Jack slid out of bed, and wandered towards the bathroom, he realized that Ianto had left more than just the dog tags behind. The suitcase that Jack had flung into the corner when he had arrived yesterday had been unpacked. His t-shirts, underwear, socks, and handkerchiefs had been stowed away in the ornate dresser next to the bathroom door with something akin to military precision. A neatly folded set of underthings lay on the top of the bureau ready for him to put on. On the hook on the back of the bathroom door hung his favorite waistcoat, with the matching pants, and a shirt Jack had never seen before. It was a neatly pressed, pale ivory shirt with a fine burgundy stripe running through it. Over the shirt hanger was draped a tie, and Jack's eyebrow quirked in surprise at this addition to his standard wardrobe choices. Jack fingered the tie, realizing quickly that it was a very good quality silk tie with a small navy, burgundy, and ivory check.

When he stepped into the luxurious bathroom he was stunned to realize that Ianto had taken care of things in here as well. There were fresh white fluffy towels that Jack knew had not been there yesterday, draped over the towel warmer, ready for his use. His straight razor, shaving mug, toothbrush, and a brand new tube of toothpaste were sitting ready by the sink. And best of all, on the upholstered bench that sat in the middle of the room was a tray with an insulated thermos, a very familiar looking blue and white striped mug, a cinnamon roll, and a note.

The things before him made Jack smile, but the note made him laugh out loud. Some months back, Ianto had discovered a stash of turn-of-the-century stationary embossed with the Torchwood logo shoved into the back of a cupboard in a deserted corner of the archives. Jack had told him to get rid of it. His own memories of the notes he'd been handed in that stationary were not ones Jack wanted to be reminded of. But Ianto's stubborn streak had surfaced. He had told Jack in no uncertain terms that high quality note paper was something to be appreciated in its own right, and had said he would find a use for it. Jack hadn't seen any evidence of the notepaper for a few weeks, but then one day when he yanked his top desk drawer open in a fit of impatience looking for his missing letter opener, he had found a sealed note sitting on top of the flotsam and jetsam that Jack had dumped into the drawer over the years. The early notes handed peremptorily to Jack when Torchwood needed something unpleasant taken care of always had his name scrawled across the front in bold black ink. The note that Jack found in his drawer had one word written on it in the bluish-purple ink Ianto favored. The envelope read simply "Sir." This very first note had made him flush with anticipation, and the suggestions it contained were carried out later that evening after Jack had sent the rest of the team home.

These little envelopes had continued to pop up randomly when Jack least expected them. They were always addressed "Sir," and were never signed, but often contained innocuous notes like "Mushrooms or Peppers on the Pizzas for lunch?" Sometimes they would be reminders like, "Please requisition an additional phone. Owen smashed his. Again." There were often variations on the first note, suggesting things Jack was only too happy to go along with. Naked Hide and Seek had been the result of one particularly steamy series of notes that kept falling out from between the monthly efficiency reports. Once in a great while there would be a sentimental note, tucked under Jack's pillow. Jack had been stunned by the first one of these which read, "It feels so good to wake up with your arms around me." There were a few apology notes saying simply, "I know I'm an idiot" or "Forgive me." Those Jack liked to contrast with the angry notes which were usually yellow post-it-notes that Ianto would leave stuck to his computer monitor with a note like "GROW THE FUCK UP JACK!"

Jack poured himself a cup of coffee from the thermos, taking a moment to enjoy the aroma of the special mystery blend Ianto had developed just for him. Jack had no idea how Ianto had arranged all this for him, but he was enjoying being so well looked after. He drank his coffee, nibbled on the cinnamon roll, and then he picked up the note and went to open it. As he flipped it over, Jack realized that this note had one difference from all the others. It had been sealed with a blob of red sealing wax which was stamped with an ornate J. The note inside, written in Ianto's precise script read:

_Good Morning. I hope you have found everything pleasurable so far. I certainly have. There are a lot more surprises in store for you, but first things first. The conference schedule indicates that breakfast will be served in the South Drawing Room at 8:45. Please try and keep your cuffs out of the butter for once. I will join you for the first session at 9:30 – The yearly State of UNIT address by Colonel Mace. I will take notes. You will NOT draw rude pictures in the margins of your handouts. _

_Please note the silk tie I left you. Wear it. Not only will it make you look damn good… but it will come in handy later at a time and place of my choosing._

_The fun has only begun Cariad._

Jack decided he was a very lucky man.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Gamesmanship

_a/n: Jack's morning session got rather highjacked by another more interesting session between Ianto and Jack. But I'm rather pleased with the chance to explore this oh so complex relationship, so I went with it…it's also more M than I've ever written, so be forwarded about some intense language and situations…_

Jack was sitting at the corner of a large U-shaped table with the rest of the conference attendees, bathed in the blue light of what Jack felt must surely be the most boring PowerPoint presentation in the history of the galaxy… maybe even the universe. It was killing him knowing that Ianto was behind him, sitting in a row of chairs along the wall provided for the attendee's assistants. Jack could smell him, could sense that unmistakable essence of Ianto, a heady combination of coffee bean, ink, silk, citrus, and desire. Jack inhaled the familiar aromas, and the very air tasted of Ianto.

Jack squirmed in his seat. The thought, the smell, the taste of Ianto was beginning to overwhelm his never very strong sense of decorum. He took a drink from the water glass in front of him, and tried to concentrate on the presentation. Colonel Mace was only up to February in his rundown of UNITs year-in-review. Jack flopped back in his chair, and wished he were anywhere but here. As he sat in the darkened room, eyes closed, with desperation looming, he heard Ianto softly cough. Jack froze, and concentrated on listening for some sign from the younger man. He didn't have long to wait. From behind him, came a subtle tapping of pen on paper. The casual listener would not have been able to make out anything other than Ianto scribbling in his notebook, but Ianto, clever Ianto, was tapping out a message that only Jack, with his century of military experience would recognize. In Morse Code, Jack heard "Patience, Cariad" tapped out over and over. Jack stilled, as ever amazed at the resourcefulness of Ianto Jones.

Ianto smiled and rolled his eyes. On one level, manipulating Jack wasn't much more difficult than dealing with a cranky toddler or a mischievous puppy. As Ianto went back to taking notes, a stray thought tickled his brain and he found himself wondering about how much of their relationship was about them manipulating each other. Almost from the start there was a lot of game playing between them, in ways good and bad. Their first year together had been something of a battle of wits and wills. Most of the Torchwood team, Ianto knew, would have characterized their early relationship as Jack's seduction of Ianto. But the two men knew better.

They didn't talk about it much, both because it was very much in the past for them, but also because, Ianto sensed that Jack was a bit chagrined that Ianto had taken rather more control over what happened than Jack was comfortable remembering. Ianto thought back over those first early weeks and months, and realized with equal parts pride and shame, that he had pulled off a con worthy of Jack Harkness. With little more than a tight pair of jeans and a keen intellect, Ianto had managed to reel Jack in, all the while maintaining the illusion that it was Jack who was in control of the seduction.

It all came tumbling out late one night several months after Lisa's death. They were lying tangled up in each other's arms on Jack's bunk, bathed in sweat and each other's fluids after what had started out as a mindless coupling had turned into something a little rougher, and a lot more exciting than either man had intended. Ianto was face down, clutching Jack's pillow and gasping for air. Jack was draped over him, kissing his way up Ianto's neck, and running his fingers through his young lover's hair. He ran his hand down Ianto's arm, and twined their fingers as he whispered, "Wow. There's a wild streak in you Ianto Jones. Where have you been hiding that?"

"Don't!" Ianto had cried, burying his head in the pillow.

"Hey. What is it? You OK?"

Ianto shook his head and wished for the millionth time that Jack had shot him in the head and put him out of his misery.

"Talk to me Ianto. I rather enjoyed that, and I'd hate to think you didn't." Jack took Ianto's shoulder and rolled him over so he could look at him. "Did I hurt you?"

Ianto couldn't look at Jack. He just lay there on his side, eyes closed, and leaking tears.

"Yes," he finally choked out. Jack tried to wrap his arms around Ianto, but Ianto pushed him away. "Jack, please…" he looked up into his boss's face, tears clinging to those long dark eyelashes, and confessed in a still small empty voice, "I wanted you to."

Jack tried to respond but found he had no words.

Ianto rushed on, "God. How can you not hate me? I'm so confused, Jack. I really hate you, you know?"

"I know, Ianto, I know."

"I despise you Jack. I do. But when I look at you… when you touch me, I want you to hold me and never let me go. How is that possible? God, Jack… you're such a monster, but I want you so badly. What the fuck does that make me?"

"Ianto…"

"No. Let me say this. Maybe you can help me understand. Maybe you're the only one who can. I think every day that I'd be better off if you'd just blown my brains out when you had your Webley pressed to my temple. But you didn't, so now this fucked up life is mine to deal with. How do I begin to make sense out of the shambles of the past six months?"

Ianto looked at Jack who was watching him, and was almost undone by the kindness in the other mans eyes, but Jack just sat silently, waiting for Ianto to continue.

"I betrayed you Jack. I lied to you so many times, to all of you. It's bad enough I lied my way into this job…"

"Torchwood needed you Ianto. We just didn't know it," Jack said quietly, with a smile.

"Yep. You did," Ianto replied with his own small smile.

"But that's not what's got you all twisted up, is it Yan?," Jack asked.

"You know it's not. The rest of it, the guilt about that, I will learn to live with. I will spend the rest of my life doing what I can to fix that betrayal. But here I am, in your bed. A bed I lied my way into."

"And that scares you?"

"Being in your bed doesn't scare me Jack. I knew what I was doing when I seduced you."

Jack was genuinely confused by this.

"I always thought it was the other way 'round."

"I know. You wouldn't have wanted me otherwise. I'm a pragmatic person. I knew what I needed, and what I needed was for you to be distracted enough for me to keep Lisa hidden. I watched you Jack, for weeks before that first encounter in the park. I stood in the alleyway and watched as you screwed that little redhead out in back of the pub. You hiked her skirt up and had her on top of a beer keg. And the banker you banged in the men's room of that little jazz club around the corner. You had him hard and fast up against the cold porcelain tiles as I stood in the shadows and listened to what you liked. As for the couple you enticed into that bus shelter down the docks… I learned a lot about your predilections as I followed you around Cardiff. You're predatory, Jack, a hunter. And the harder your prey is to catch, the more enticing it becomes."

"You…?"

"Yes, you bastard. I prepared for a job as your Archivist by cataloging your fucks."

"But…"

"No Jack. I gave you just what you wanted. I gave you someone to chase. Someone who knew what you liked, someone near enough for you to entice, but not easy enough for you to overwhelm. I let you use me. And I was ok with that."

"Really?" Jack asked, his eyebrow and his ire raised. "So the whole 'I've never been with a man, you'll have to show me what to do, Sir' schtick was a lie too?"

Ianto flushed, and dipped his head. "The best lies are part truth Jack."

Jack tipped Ianto head up, and looked deep into his eyes. "Tell me the truth Ianto. Start rebuilding this life with the truth."

Ianto sighed deeply. He rearranged himself under the thin silk sheet so that his back was against the wall. He wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned his head back and tried to find a way to begin.

"I never wanted to want you Jack. You, you're heat and light and dark chocolate and blue skies. You taste like sin, and you leave me hungry for more. It's never been like this for me. For the most part I've always done what was expected of me. Dated nice respectable girls who I could bring home, who made me feel good about myself. It felt right with Lisa. I was growing up. We were planning a life together. I wanted a little girl with her curls and my eyes. I was good at loving her. I knew what to do, and I made her happy."

"Did she make you happy Ianto?"

"Happy enough."

"Did you love anyone else, before Lisa?"

"I don't think I'd really been in love before Lisa. My first proper girlfriend was called Bronwen. We were at the polytechnic together before I transferred to Uni and she was my lab partner. She had long curly brown hair and big brown eyes. The girls had to wear these little pleated skirts, and I fell for her the first time I saw her leaning over the lab table. She was the first girl I ever slept with. We lasted about four months. She broke up with me at the end of term. There was a chubby girl called Harriet who I went around with for a while, but it never got very serious, and then she left me for a girl called Brenda. I was on my own for a long time after that. I transferred to University, and I drifted. I spent a lot of time getting drunk and high, and I did a lot of groping in dark corners of bars. I learned the fun one can have with hands and mouths, but was always careful to keep it casual."

"Were there ever boys? There must have been a few."

"Jack…"

"Tell the truth Ianto, if not to me, at least to yourself. Close your eyes, take a deep breath and tell me about the first boy you ever loved."

"His name was Paul, and he was beautiful. Captain of the Rugby team, soloist in the school choir, Debate Team. He was everything I was not. I loved him, and he never even knew I existed. I'd watch him debate, or sing, standing there in front of everyone, tall and slim and blonde. He had the longest fingers, Jack. I wanted those fingers on me. I'd watch him during Rugby matches and imagine what it must be like to be that close to him. To have his arms around my shoulders, to have his hands in my hair. But I was fifteen Jack. I didn't understand any of these feelings. I was small, and dark, and desperately shy."

"And the first boy you slept with?"

"I never knew the name of the first boy who screwed me. I was drunk, and out with a roommate who was gay. We were dancing, and drinking, and high on ecstasy, and the next thing I know I'm kissing this bloke, and he drags me into the bathroom and is inside me before I really even know what's happening. It hurt like hell, and I had to finish myself off afterwards 'cause he was gone once he'd gotten himself off. He was a blonde too, and he smelt like gin. Other than that, I have no idea. After that, there were a lot of partners... but I never let another guy get near me. I learned to enjoy sex, and it didn't really matter to me who I was with. Then when I met Lisa it all changed. Before Lisa I never really cared who or where or when. It was good, but it never lasted. But with Lisa there was tenderness. It was slow, and it was sweet, and it was good. She was warm and soft, and I could bury myself in her and feel normal. She was safe."

If Ianto had looked at Jack he would have seen kind eyes brimming with tears. But he didn't look up as he continued.

"Shit, Jack. I felt safe with Lisa. Life was finally going my way. And then the battle happened, and any thoughts of safety were destroyed along with everything else that day. Terror and desperation became a way of life. I had to go back into the shadows I thought I'd left behind me. And so here I am, in your bed. Bewitched by the man who was supposed to save my Lisa and who murdered her in front of me. How am I supposed to live with that?"

"By not hiding yourself Ianto, from me, or from yourself. You are a complex, silly, mysterious, wonderful human being. You are as overwhelming to me as you say I am to you. You are organized chaos. Smoky Scotch and vanilla ice-cream. Hot, dark, sweet coffee and cool Welsh rain. You're stronger than almost anyone I have ever met, and yet you are still able to melt like silk in my arms. You have seen horrors in your short life that no one should have to experience. Hate me for as long as you need to, I'm OK with that. There are dark shadows that I see in your eyes and I recognize them because they are in me too. I know how it feels to have hate and love all mixed up together. But know this -- your betrayal of me is in the past. It was done out of love. I have done a lot of things for reasons a lot less noble. I'd like to think I could give you comfort and safety, but the truth is that outside of this bed, those things don't exist. Here, now, today, this minute you are in my bed, and I am happy for you to remain there as long as you want to. All you can do Ianto is ask yourself what you truly want, what will make you truly happy."

Jack had kissed him gently, and then showered, leaving Ianto time to gather his thoughts. Jack returned, wearing only a towel. He looked down at the man who was still sitting in his bed, idly running the edge of the silk sheet through his fingers.

A rumpled naked man in his bed always made Jack happy. But he remained silent, waiting for Ianto to make the first move, to take the next step.

"Shower's free," is all he intended to say, but he found himself continuing with, "I could take you to breakfast if you'd like…"

"If this is about what I'd like … I'd like for you to come back to bed Jack."

"I thought you hated me."

"I do. But the thing is… I want to get over hating you. What I don't want is to get over loving you."

"Loving me?"

"I am not in love with you Jack. I don't know if I will ever be in love again. But a part of me is still that confused, scared fifteen year old who wants a boys hands in his hair. Here, now, today, this minute this bed feels like comfort and safety, and I need that Jack. I need it so much."

Ianto found himself kneeling on the small bunk arms outstretched. Jack stepped forward into his arms and twined his fingers in Ianto's hair, and for a little while they lost themselves in each other.

Ianto's reverie was interrupted by the chirping of his phone. He took a few deep breaths to try and clear the memories of that long ago day when he and Jack had taken those first few tentative steps forward. He flipped his phone open to read the text message. The Colonel had reached August in the presentation, and Jack had slumped down in his chair, bored and cranky.

He had been getting frequent texts from Tosh with updates on rift activity. This one simply read, _"Small spike. Sent Gwen and Owen to deal with it. Enjoy your time with Jack. Tosh."_

Ianto could see the tension radiating from Jack in the chair in front of him. He realized that another distraction was called for. It would call for subtlety, but fortunately, Ianto had an A level in subtle. He pulled a sheet of his very special stationary out of the back of his notebook, uncapped his fountain pen and wrote yet another note.

_Sir,_

_Dr. Sato wants me to inform you that the rift, while unpredictable, is behaving within normal parameters. In other words, all seems to be well at home._

_The Colonel only has four more months to cover, so try and be patient. While you are sitting there plotting creative ways of killing a superior officer, I need you to work out something for me. _

_You are wearing a very attractive tie (If I do say so myself), and before the end of this session, I want you to come up with twelve ways that we can use that tie during the hour we have free for lunch. I have informed the house staff that we will be eating in your room as we discuss some personnel issues that have arisen during your absence from Cardiff. A very sweet housemaid named Deirdre has agreed to leave some sandwiches for us, bless her._

_Don't let me down, Jack._

With a smile, Ianto folded the note and slipped it into the matching envelope. Leaving his notebook on his chair, he stepped forward and put his hand on Jack's shoulder. He leaned down and whispered in Jack's ear. "Urgent message for you Sir." While Jack opened the note and read it, Ianto stealthily stroked that spot on Jack's neck just at his hairline that drove him crazy, and gently blew into his ear. The resulting startled expression on Jack's face was interpreted by the UNIT personnel around him as some unexpected news contained in the note.

"Very good, Jones," was Jack's measured reply, but Ianto knew what he was trying to say. When Ianto returned to his chair and sat down, he saw that Jack had pulled out a pen and was now making notes on a piece of paper.

Ianto couldn't wait to see what uses Jack would find for the new tie.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Buttons

"Dear God I've created a monster!" Ianto gasped.

Jack had spent the last twenty minutes exploring the first four things on his hastily created list of fun things to do with a silk tie.

Ianto had rather expected to be handed the list with a cheery "work to be done" as had happened so often before. He had planned on being in charge of this midday interlude. So when Jack yanked him into his room, pinned Ianto to the door, gave him a long hard sloppy kiss, and then with great eagerness, kissed his way to Ianto's ear whispering, "do you have your stopwatch?" he breathlessly replied "Of course, Sir. How may I assist you?" He was stunned when Jack blew in his ear and told him, "You may not assist me."

"Sir?"

"You've been taking such good care of me, Ianto, now I want to take care of you."

"Whatever you want Jack."

"Whatever?" Jack replied with the most salacious look in his face.

"If it's on the list, and it can be done in five minute increments, sure," Ianto smirked.

Jack snaked his arms around Ianto's waist, growling as he kissed Ianto, "We're wasting time talking! Push the button on the damn stopwatch. And then do what I tell you."

Ianto pulled the stopwatch out of his waistcoat pocket, went to push the button, looked up at Jack with a twinkle in his blue eyes, and asked "It's this button on the top, right?"

Jack switched to nibbling Ianto's other ear, and whispered, "You know which buttons to push."

And Ianto did. He turned the stopwatch so Jack could see it, pushed the button and whispered "Five minutes…Go!"

Jack stilled, and with both hands, he pushed Ianto back against the door, and said, "Take off my tie."

Ianto reached out, pulled the tie out of Jack's waistcoat and ran his fingers down it, enjoying the feel of silk between his fingers.

"I love this tie," he said, staring deep into Jack's eyes.

"You're going to love what I do to you with this tie," Jack said. "Now take it off me."

Ianto's nimble fingers made quick work of the knot and he pulled on it gently enjoying Jack's shivers as the tie slid around and down his neck.

Jack took the tie and reached out, tying it gently but firmly over Ianto's eyes. To his way of thinking, the younger man had been in control far too long, and it was time to take some of that control back. He loved a domineering Ianto, but the young man could become awfully buttoned-up, and Jack loved to get him all rumpled.

"Number one – blindfold Ianto and take off his suit."

"Wait, Jack…" Ianto said, reaching out and making contact with Jack's shoulders.

"What is it now, Yan?" asked, impatiently, but with amusement.

"I have to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Have the sandwiches arrived?"

"You're HUNGRY?"

Pulling Jack closer, Ianto groaned, "Not for lunch… but if they're not here, I don't want the housemaid walking in on us. Even in the wilds of Scotland I don't think…"

Jack stopped, and laughed a big full-throated, delighted laugh.

"Only you Ianto… only you."

He looked around and spotted the tray of sandwiches.

"Relax. Lunch is laid out on the table by the window. But if you don't shut up and let me get back to what I'm doing, we won't have time for lunch," Jack replied, running his hands down Ianto's arms, around his waist and up his back under his suit jacket.

"Combine a few if you have to Jack, but don't stop!" Ianto told him, breathlessly.

How much time left?"

Ianto held up the stopwatch so Jack could read it.

"Ninety seconds to get you undressed. I love a challenge. And we can't have you going back downstairs all wrinkled and stained…"

"Only you Jack, only you…" Ianto echoed as he toed off his own shoes as Jack stripped him of everything he was wearing, save his white dress shirt and light blue boxers. Jack draped the suit over a handy chair.

"Push the button."

Ianto complied, Jack peered over at it. "Thirteen seconds to spare. Oh, good, more time for the next round."

"Number two – sensory deprivation and kissing," Jack said as he led Ianto into the middle of the room. "No talking," he warned, laying a finger on Ianto's lips.

"You do it right, and I won't be able to talk, Sir," Ianto quipped.

"Push the button, button-pusher. And remember I get extra time on this round."

The joy about having Jack Harkness as a lover was in the surprises. Instead of kisses in the usual places, he reached out for Ianto's right hand, in which nestled the stopwatch. Jack unbuttoned Ianto's right-hand cuff buttons, and planted possibly the hottest kiss Ianto had ever received on the inside of Ianto's wrist. Jack smiled against Ianto's skin. He could feel a rapid increase in heart rate under his lips as he continued working the pulse point, leaving his lover gasping and clutching at the stopwatch.

"Don't push that button Ianto, I want my full five minutes."

"Take your time, Jack, oh, take…

Whatever Ianto intended to say was lost as Jack pushed up the shirt sleeve and continued to kiss is way up Ianto's arm, ending with another mind-bending kiss to the super-sensitive skin on the inside of Ianto's elbow. Jack repeated his performance on the other arm, and then another surprise. He kissed his way down the placket of Ianto's shirt, planting one kiss on top of every button all the way down. Then he unbuttoned the shirt from the bottom, one button at a time and planted a kiss on each bit of Ianto's skin that he exposed as he worked his way back up. Jack turned Ianto's hand holding the stopwatch towards him, gave a little sigh of pleasure and spent his final minute of round two kissing the spot he had just exposed under Ianto top collar button. With ten seconds to spare, Jack ran his lips over his lover's temple, whispering "Push the button."

He chuckled softly as Ianto seemed unable to comply, and Jack took care of the button himself. "Now who's the button-pusher" he whispered as he continued to nuzzle the side of Ianto's face. Ianto turned his head and captured Jack's lips for a kiss, and then nuzzled his head into Jack's neck saying, "I really liked that last round. We can do that anytime you like."

"I'll take you away for Christmas and show you what fun the back of the knees can be," Jack teased into Ianto's ear. Jack's eyes darkened as he saw Ianto's involuntarily shudder at his words, and envisioned a plush rug, a crackling fireplace, and kissing Ianto until he whimpered with pleasure.

"Sounds like fun." Ianto smiled, and asked, "What's number three on your list?"

"Getting impatient are we? Well, I think in the interest of time, I'll follow your suggestion and combine rounds three and four. For that I'll need your tie." Jack plucked Ianto's grey silk tie off the chair where he'd dropped it, backed Ianto up to the corner of the bed, took the stopwatch out of Ianto's hands and laid it on the edge of the bed. Then he looped the tie around Ianto's wrists, and tied them to the bed post above his head.

Touching his forehead to Ianto's, Jack growled, "When we're done here, I am going to take your tie and put it back around your neck, and all afternoon you and I will remember the next five minutes as you will be clinging to that tie while I make you beg me to untie you.

"Numbers three and four – pain and pleasure", Jack rasped, yanking the tie a bit tighter to keep Ianto's hands over his head.

"You okay?" he asked softly. "Push the damn button, Jack. Work to do," Ianto hissed in response.

Jack started the stopwatch, and swooped in for a passion-filled kiss full of lips, teeth, and tongues. He knew that Ianto loved to twine his fingers in his hair while they kissed, and that not being able to use his hands would drive him crazy. When they broke apart to catch their breath, Jack bunched fistfuls of Ianto shirt into his hands and used it to pull them tightly together, all the while rubbing the shirt over the ticklish spots on Ianto's back, just above his waist. He was rewarded by a cry from Ianto.

"Pain and pleasure, remember my love?" Jack said as he continued to use the shirt to caress the sensitive spots on Ianto's back. Between the smooth cotton being rubbed over his skin, and the rough wool of Jack's waistcoat against his chest, Ianto's brain was in danger of short-circuiting again. Ianto keened as the buttons from Jack's vest dug into him. Jack responded by shoving them both up tight against the bed post, and returned to the savage kisses he'd begun with. He smiled when he pulled back for a quick breath and realized that Ianto's hands were compulsively clenching against the tie, and he was repeating the same words over and over again. Eyes closed, gasping with each breath, Ianto kept saying "Please, Jack. Please. Please, Jack. Let me touch you. Please, Jack."

Jack ran his hands up Ianto's arms, pulled the tie loose from the post, wrapped his lover's arms around his neck, leaned over, and stopped the stopwatch.

"Twenty minutes gone, gorgeous. Think you're ready for number five?" Jack purred as he pulled Ianto's blindfold off.

"Dear God I've created a monster!" Ianto gasped, flipping Jack around and backing him up against the bed, and repeating the last fierce kiss, this time giving in to his desire to wind his fingers into Jack's hair.

There's just one problem, Cariad," Ianto murmured as he ran his hands over the sensitive spots on the back of Jack's neck.

"What's that?"

Ianto took his tie that was still in his hand, brought it up, wrapped it around Jack's eyes, and kissing him on the nose, replied.

"We're not going to get to number five. We're going to go back to number one and start over."

"Yan?"

Ianto laid a finger over Jack's lips, kissed his nose again, and as he started to unbutton Jack's waistcoat, announced, "Your turn."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five -- Understandings

_a/n: The conference bits were a combination of the UNIT website __and a couple of random conference schedules I Googled and then mashed together. They were fun to come up with, although I don't know if they actually make sense! Likewise it was fun to create the UNIT personnel. There's a very long list of them on Wikipedia, but rather than mess around with someone else's characters, I made my own up. Some fluff, and a bit of angst for seasoning…_

Ianto thanked his lucky stars for his ability to multi-task. He was mostly dressed, and was sitting at the small round table in Jack's suite trying to eat a sandwich while going over the conference schedule on his PDA. Jack was behind him, reading over his shoulder and trying to undo Ianto's shirt buttons in a very tempting manner.

"Stop it Jack," he said, batting away his lover's hands. "Pay attention."

"I think I was paying a lot of attention," Jack murmured in his ear.

"To this list… not to me."

Jack sighed, grabbed a sandwich, and still leaning over Ianto's shoulder, read from the schedule.

13:15 to 14:15 -- How Real is Reality: Dealing with the Aftereffects of Psychic Trances and Liminality during an Alien Incursion presented by Dr. Almani Korda

14:30 to 15:00 -- An Update to UNIT publication UAC-45: Interim Guidance on the ETE Extra-Solar Contaminant Detection Kit version 2.02 presented by Lt. Terence Perkins-Lockhart

15:15 to 16:15 -- Plexus Blocks and Morphological Variations in Non-Terran Anesthesia presented by Professor Chang Donovan

16:30 to 17:30 -- Essential Force Multipliers: Coordinating with Local Law Enforcement to Enhance Homeworld Security presented by Major-General Wilbert Billings

"These UNIT conferences are going to do me in Ianto."

"Sir, it's not going to kill you to sit through an afternoon's worth of lectures."

"It might."

"I think we both know better," Ianto smiled up at Jack.

"One point to Jones," Jack smirked as he kissed a bit of mustard off Ianto's mouth. Jack pulled Ianto up for a more lingering kiss. Ianto relaxed into the kiss for a moment and then pushed Jack gently an arm's length away. As he straightened Jack's tie, he said, "This first session might actually be pretty interesting. I've been following Dr. Korda's work ever since he did some training for us at Torchwood London."

"Ok, fine. But give me one good reason to attend that second session. It sounds like torture."

Ianto smiled, and reached for his PDA. With a few stylus clicks he brought up a picture of the presenter and showed it to Jack.

"Does this help?" Ianto asked.

Jack took the PDA from Ianto and gazed at the picture before him, an odd smirk on his face.

"Jack?"

"Hmmm?"

"Maybe you should skip that session. Drooling at the presenter is frowned upon."

"No, it's not that." At the quirk of Ianto's eyebrow, Jack laughed, "Well, he is very handsome. It's just that we've met before, although I never knew his full name. He asked me to call him Perky, and it turned out to be a very appropriate nickname."

"You and your soldiers Jack…"

"What can I say Ianto, keeping up morale within the ranks is important."

When Ianto didn't respond to the obvious innuendo Jack stepped towards him. "There's no reason for you to worry. About ten years ago Alex sent me to help UNIT out with some alien tech that turned up near a Boarding School outside Bristol. Perky and I took care of the tech, while spending the weekend sneaking into each others rooms in a soggy guest house owned by Perky's mum. She kept trying to fix me up with her obnoxious daughter. Perky was certainly very pretty, and I enjoyed getting him out of his uniform and, you know, helping him with his morale, but well... even Jack Harkness has his limits."

"I wasn't worrying, Jack, but when you start talking about limits, I might start."

"Impudence. Now get over here so I can put that tie of yours back on. I want to run the silk through my hands one more time, and I want you to remember that my hands were the last ones to touch you."

The younger man stepped up to Jack, and turned around pressing his back flush against Jack's front. The two men stood immobile for a moment, lost in the memories of their noontime interlude, and the sweet torment of rough wool on bare skin. Jack took the opportunity to run his hands up Ianto's arms and across his shoulders, and then dropping a quick kiss under his lover's ear he leaned over and tied Ianto's tie. Both men found themselves lost in the sensual sound of silk whispering over silk. He then turned Ianto so that the men were facing each other, and primly buttoned up Ianto's waistcoat, indulging in a quick kiss after each button. Jack dug the stopwatch out from among the rumpled bedclothes and tucked it back into Ianto's waistcoat pocket.

"Yours are the only hands I want on me Jack," Ianto purred as he pulled Jack into a longer, more intense kiss, and then shooed him out of the room, stopping only long enough to pick up his notebook and PDA, and surreptitiously gaze into the mirror to check the tie's knot. It was not his usual knot, but he touched it lightly with nimble fingers, and smiled in satisfaction.

Ianto had been right, and Jack had enjoyed the first presentation by Dr. Korda. Jack had some experience with alien induced twilight states, and he and Dr. Korda had engaged in a spirited debate towards the end of the session. Ianto had followed the men's dispute, and was pleased with himself for keeping up on his shorthand skills. He had taught himself during a couple of temping jobs when he first moved to London, and he could usually notate complete transcripts of conversations. He supposed he could have taken dictation from a recording, but he found it satisfying to be able to utilize a less technological method.

The second session was, as predicted, deadly boring, and Ianto had been amused to watch Jack try and catch Perky's attention. When the Lieutenant gave no indication of knowing who Jack was, Ianto just smiled, and began taking notes so that he could revise the UNIT publications file he kept in the Hub's archives.

Jack found himself sitting in a room, gazing at a past lover, and knowing that his current lover was sitting behind him, just over his right shoulder. Perky had been just one of a long string of one (or two or three) night stands, and Jack couldn't help musing over how different his life was now from those days not so long past.

His young Welshman made him happy in ways that constantly amazed Jack. He could hardly have imagined that a relationship that began steeped in lies and betrayals could ever provide so much kindness, sympathy, and support. At times both men doubted the sanity of pursuing their relationship. What began with heartache and loss could only end the same way. Jack found himself remembering the early days when there was so much anger between them. The nights when the sex was almost feral, Ianto pinning him to his bunk, biting and scratching Jack as Ianto worked himself to his release, screaming in both pain and pleasure, and then collapsing back onto the bed, burying himself in the bedclothes in shame and despair. Jack had lost count of the nights that the younger man stumbled from the bed soon after sex, dragging on his clothes and fleeing the Hub.

They had their first fight about it one night when Jack had snuck up behind Ianto in the kitchenette as he was making coffee. The team had spent a long frustrating day trying to figure out an odd piece of alien tech and a long-buried corpse they had found at a construction site. Jack had eventually sent the rest of them home, asking Ianto to stay and make him a cup of coffee before he went. Finding himself alone with Ianto, and thinking of fun ways to work out the day's frustrations, Jack had slipped up behind the younger man and grabbed him around the waist. Ianto flinched, and dropped the pot of coffee he had in his hands. The glass pot shattered at his feet, soaking his shoes and the cuffs of his pants in hot coffee.

"Fuck Jack. What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to surprise you. I think it worked."

"Shit, shit, shit," Ianto ground out, as he grabbed a handful of rags from under the sink and knelt down to mop up the hot coffee. He gently binned the pieces of the shattered glass carafe and tried not to cut himself.

"Here, let me help," Jack said, crouching down.

"Don't Jack."

"But I want to help."

"No thank you, Sir. You hired me to clean up after you. Now let me do my job."

"But…"

"No Jack. I know my place… on my hands and knees at your feet cleaning up your messes." Ianto sat back on his heels, furious as his coffee soaked shoes squeaked. He looked up his boss, saying angrily. "You know you like me on my hands and knees. Anything else you want while I'm down here?" he asked pointedly gazing at the zipper in Jack's pants.

Jack had grabbed Ianto by the shirtfront, yanked him to his feet, and shoved him out of the kitchenette and up against the catwalk rail. Never letting go of him, Jack leaned into the younger man, close, but not quite touching Ianto.

This was a Jack that Ianto had rarely seen before. His Captain was almost beside himself with fury. Ianto found himself unable to look Jack in the eyes, and he shivered, remembering the feel of Jack's Webley pressed to his temple.

Breathing heavily, and using every ounce of self-control he possessed not to strangle the younger man, Jack ground out, "You and I both know this isn't really about the coffee, is it?"

When Ianto didn't respond, Jack shook him, "Answer me, damn you."

Ianto still couldn't bring himself to respond, and Jack shoved him away from the railing. He took a few steps away and then turned back. "Why can't you look at me, Ianto? Why is it so hard for you to let me touch you?"

Jack was stunned when Ianto started laughing, a big loud full-throated laugh that Jack had never heard from him before.

"What's so fucking funny?"

"You are Jack. I'm going home. You can clean up your own mess for once."

"Wait… Ianto… I don't understand…"

"I know you don't Jack. How could you possibly understand how long it's been since someone touched me the way you touch me. Since anyone touched me at all. There is no way someone like you could understand the pain of being so utterly alone for so very long."

Ianto started past Jack to go down the steps, but as he passed the Captain, Jack reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"That's where you're wrong, Ianto Jones." He whispered.

"Sir?"

Jack couldn't shift the sudden echoes in his head… the emptiness of the satellite… the smell of death… the despair…the sound of his boots on cold metal walkways. Calling for others till his voice gave out. Hoping against hope that there were other survivors. Curling up exhausted after days of fruitless searching. Finding sleep impossible, and retching up everything he tried to eat. Sobbing until he had no tears left. Shooting himself in the head, finally, trying to end it all, and discovering to his horror that death was never going to be a way out.

"Sir? Jack?" Ianto tried to pull away from Jack who was standing, lost in his own thoughts, tears streaming down his face.

Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and buried his head in his shoulder. "Never say I don't understand loneliness Ianto. Someday I'll tell you about all the loneliest places in the Universe." Jack walked away then, towards his office, never looking back as he called out to Ianto, "Get out of here. I'll see you in the morning. Buy yourself a new pair of shoes, and hide it in the expense report. You know I never actually read those things before I sign them."

Ianto had gone home then, more confused than ever about where he and Jack stood. They had danced around each other at the office for days, each consumed by their own pain. The following Sunday, Jack had taken Ianto out to Flat Holm Island. Told him he needed someone who understood pain and despair to help take care of the residents. Pressed a set of keys and a flash drive with the security codes into Ianto's hand, saying quietly, "just in case…" They took a walk and found themselves sitting in a comfortable silence, Ianto's hand in Jack's staring out over the water and listening the crash of the waves on the rocks below them.

On the boat on the way back to Cardiff, Ianto had come up behind Jack, and wrapped his arms around his waist. Resting his head on the others man's shoulder, he asked, "How long has it been since you've had a home cooked meal, Jack?"

Jack always smiled when he remembered that night. It was a simple dinner, a salad, some pasta, a bottle of wine. They sat on the couch eating ice cream and watching TV. Ianto had leaned in and kissed some stray chocolate sauce off Jack's cheek, and Jack pulled him close, and they fell asleep, arms wrapped around each other. Jack was just starting to reminisce about the fun he had had waking Ianto up, when the lights in the conference room came up, and Perky was wrapping up his presentation.

Ianto caught up to Jack in the hallway on their way to Professor Donovan's talk. Jack pulled him aside, and asked quietly, "Do you think we could have dinner tonight, just the two of us? Maybe slip off down to the pub, or something."

"I had something similar in mind myself, Sir, although I had planned on someplace a bit more secluded than the pub."

"Really?"

"Yes, Sir. If you'll look in your bottom dresser drawer when you get back to your room you'll find a sweater, a map, and some instructions."

"How do you always know what I need?"

"I was actually thinking about what I need, Sir. My morale is a bit low, and I thought maybe you could think of some ways to improve it. Start by wearing the coat. I love the coat."

"And what will you be wearing?"

"An expectant smile, Sir…"

_a/n: Whew. Sorry for the delay. This chapter did NOT want to be written. And this story keep taking detours I never expected it to. Next up… "The Folly."_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six -- The Folly

_a/n: Ok, I willingly admit to being besotted by a movie called "Firelight" which I haven't seen in a number of years... but it's basically Jane Eyre with sex, so what's not to love? The estate in the movie has this mind numbingly wonderful folly in the middle of a lake. Tres picturesque. So I am borrowing the setting... but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? So when I was thinking of some place on the Lethbridge estate for this little assignation, the folly came to mind and I ran with it._

_for those who like visuals, there's a picture of it on wikipedia in the "Firelight" entry._

It was just after six p.m. when Jack got back to his room. Ianto had given him strict instructions. He could look in the dresser drawer. He could change his clothes. He could read the instructions. He could NOT open the map until at least seven p.m. He ached to peek at the map, but he knew that the anticipation would only add to the evening's adventures.

Jack pulled open the bottom dresser drawer and lifted out a neat stack of items. On the bottom of the stack was a gloriously thick, soft, cream-colored Aran turtleneck sweater. Next in the stack was a largish flat interdepartmental envelope marked top secret. Jack assumed this was the map. On the top of the stack was a smaller envelope, one of Ianto's now familiar embossed Torchwood stationery envelopes.

Jack lay the larger envelope on the dresser, and held the sweater up in front of him, examining how he looked in the mirror. He knew that if Ianto had picked it out, it would fit him perfectly. Jack tossed the sweater on the bed, and crossed to one of the armchairs flanking the fireplace. There was a fire going, and he noticed the coffee thermos and his striped mug waiting on the side table. He poured himself a cup and took his favorite first sip, as ever trying to figure out what made Ianto's coffee so special. He plumped down in the nearest chair, and went to open the envelope. Like the one that had accompanied his breakfast, this one too was sealed with a blob of red sealing wax, imprinted with the letter J.

_Jack,_

_Congratulations! You have survived the first full day of the conference without setting off any National Emergencies (that I know of). When you first received your information about the conference, I pulled the file on Lethbridge House from the Archives. Included with brochures from previous symposiums, there were maps and satellite images of the grounds, and a wealth of newspaper articles tracing official UNIT functions, as well as some older society page clippings. Did you know that Lethbridge-Stewarts have been hosting hunting parties and weekend house parties since the turn-of-the-century? It must have been something to see a fully functioning estate back then. Did I even tell you my great-grandfather was in service? It wasn't a grand house like this, he worked for a wool merchant, but he started out as a footman, and worked his way up to Butler. His diaries are fascinating reading._

_But, to the point… I suspected that after a long day of dealing with the UNIT bureaucracy that you'd be looking for a way to get away from the official functions. A thorough study of the estate plans provided me with a solution to this dilemma. At the appointed hour, you can open the map, and follow the route I've marked, and you'll find some dinner, some companionship, and I can virtually assure you there will be no UNIT personnel there. (although I have packed the stun gun in case any of them do show up.)_

_Wear the sweater. Dress warmly. There is a pair of sturdy corduroys and your boots in the closet, and a pair of those nubbly socks in the top dresser drawer, if you like. Don't forget the coat. You'll need it to keep warm, and I want to see you in it. _

_I'll see you soon, Jack. Happy Hunting. -- __Ianto_

Jack finished his coffee, and then slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He toweled himself off as he wandered back in front of the fireplace, rubbing the water out of his hair. He pulled on a fresh white undershirt and a pair of boxers, and grabbed his favorite wooly socks out of the top drawer. He put on the pants Ianto had mentioned in his letter and got his boots out of the closet. Sitting on the bed, he laced up his boots, and then pulled the new sweater over his head. The sweater was warm and soft and fit him like a glove. The browns and creams made a change from his usual wardrobe of blues and greys, and Jack had to admit to himself that Ianto's taste was impeccable.

He pulled a comb through his hair, and looking at his watch realized he still had some time, so he poured himself another cup of coffee, and re-read Ianto's note. At 6:55 he couldn't take the suspense anymore and he retrieved the top secret envelope and ripped it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a handrawn map of the house, and the surrounding gardens. There was a dotted line wending its way from the back of the house through the gardens to an X by the lake. Along the right edge of the map were written some instructions.

1. At 19:00 hours, without being seen, exit Lethbridge House by the rear kitchen door. I leave it to your superior tracking skills to get from your room to the kitchen.

2. On the sundial in the middle of the herb garden outside the kitchen entrance will be a lantern. Bring it with you. You will need it to make your way through the gardens this time of the night.

3. Following the map, proceed through the herb garden, the drying yard, and the follow the exterior walls of the rose garden until you reach the tennis courts.

4. Turn west to avoid the boxwood maze, and follow along the lakeshore path until you reach the dock. I will be waiting.

As the mantle clock chimed seven, Jack pulled on his greatcoat, stuffed the map in his pocket, snapped off the lights, and headed for the kitchen. He dodged house staff and UNIT personnel as he snuck down the back stairs into the kitchen. The kitchen staff were all far too busy with dinner preparations to pay much attention to him, so he managed to get outside without any further interruptions. He stood for a minute on the terrace, feeling the winter breeze on his skin, listening to the distant call of a lonely crow. His eyes quickly found the flickering lantern sitting about a hundred feet from the house. He had his torch in the inside pocket of his coat, but Ianto said bring the lantern, and he wasn't about to ignore his instructions.

When he reached the sundial, he pulled the map out of his pocket and laughed aloud as he held it up, checking his route by the light of the lantern. He never doubted Ianto's thoroughness, but was delighted to see that the map was drawn with ink which glowed luminescent in the flickering light. He picked up the lantern and set off across the frozen ground, coat-tails flapping in the breeze. After sitting all day, Jack was having a wonderful time out in the crisp air, listening to the wind in the trees, and watching the sparkle of the moonlight on the frosty ground. He found the tennis courts with no problem, but did have to duck into the boxwood maze to avoid a couple of under-gardeners who were trundling up the path with a wheelbarrow and a spade, complaining bitterly about having to work so late, and being late getting down to the pub.

After they passed, Jack slipped along the path, watching the moon highlight the fine mist that was hanging over the lake. There was just enough light to make out a person standing near the end of the dock, and a rowboat bobbing gently as the water ruffled against the wooden posts jutting out from the shore. Across the water, Jack could see the flicker of candlelight behind frost-coated glass, and he wondered if that was their destination. Jack reached the dock, and strode to meet the man standing at the other end, his boots clattering on the wooden decking.

Ianto was waiting for him, stopwatch in hand. He clicked the button, turned to Jack and said, "Nice work sir. Fourteen minutes, twenty-three seconds.

Jack laughed and kissed him, but jumped back, complaining, "Your nose is cold!"

He took a moment to look at Ianto. He was wearing his shorter, more casual overcoat, and had changed into jeans, but was now wearing a red v-neck cashmere sweater over his white dress shirt. Jack's eyebrow went sky high when he saw Ianto's tie. He moved the lantern in his hand closer to the younger man, examining the tie more carefully. It was a completely unsubtle, very un-Ianto-like red, yellow, and blue plaid.

"Nice tie," Jack finally said.

"Seemed appropriate, Sir."

"Because we're in Scotland?"

"You disappoint me Sir. You wouldn't expect me to wear anything other than a Stewart plaid here on the Brigadier's estate, now would you?"

At Jack's slightly befuddled look, Ianto just chuckled, and kissed him. "Your nose is cold too, Jack."

Turning towards the rowboat, Ianto announced, "This way to the boats, Sir, and we'll be off. If you hold the lantern, I'll take care of the oars, and we'll soon see if my surprise pleases you."

Jack found himself unable to see very far through the mist that shrouded the lake, but he listened to the sounds of the water lapping against the boat and the creak of the oars in the oarlocks as Ianto rowed them towards the flickering lights.

Ianto voice broke the stillness. "According to the estate plans, this folly was built in 1896 at the whim of the second wife of then owner, Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. It fell into disrepair over the years, but the current Lady Lethbridge has overseen its restoration."

Ianto maneuvered the boat around and tied it to one of the ornate stone staircases that led down into the water.

"It's wonderful, Ianto."

The folly was a small glass-enclosed shelter with stone steps that branched out from all four sides, the steps leading down into the water.

"When I first saw it Jack, I thought it looked lonely, marooned out here in the middle of the lake. But come inside and let me show you what we've got for dinner."

Ianto stepped carefully out of the boat, and pulled Jack up onto the stairs next to him. Jack lifted the lantern to look around as Ianto opened the French doors on the front of the folly. There were wooden benches on either side of the small enclosure, and Ianto had filled the corners of them with an assortment of lamps and candles. On the floor were spread out a number of plaid blankets and a few pillows had been tossed against the benches. On the blanket was a picnic basket, and an ice bucket, in which rested a bottle of champagne. Ianto took the lantern from Jack and ushered him into the folly, closing the door behind them. Jack was stunned.

He turned to Ianto, asking, "How did you get all this out here?"

Ianto chuckled as he explained. "I used my masculine wiles on an eager footman."

He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, leaned in nipping his ear and asked, "Do you think he will be mad when he finds out that the directions I gave him so he could find my room later, were actually directions to Perky's room?"

"You didn't."

Ianto pulled back and looked at Jack, replying sternly, "Do you have any reason to doubt my veracity, Captain Sir?"

"Do you have any idea how hot that tone of voice is?"

"Not a clue, Sir, perhaps you could give me a demonstration."

Jack slid his arms inside Ianto's overcoat, and pulled him into a fierce embrace, palms roaming over the soft cashmere of the sweater and the rough denim of his jeans, while the lining of Ianto's overcoat brushed the backs of hands. Jack reveled in the contrasting textures. Ianto ran his hands up Jack's back and shoulders, loving the feeling of the woolen greatcoat under his fingers, and then wound his fingers in the other man's hair as Jack leaned in to capture a long languid kiss.

"Jack?" Ianto whispered as he nibbled the other man's ear.

"Hmmm?"

"If we don't stop this, we won't get around to dinner, and I'm starving."

Jack laughed, and stepped back, replying, "So… what's on the menu... besides me of course?"

Ianto knelt down next to the picnic basket, and rolled his eyes as Jack flopped down on the blankets beside him. His eagerness was appreciated, but sometimes Ianto had a hard time reconciling Jack's immortality and his childishness. But this was not the time for deep philosophical thoughts, so Ianto began to unpack the basket.

"Planning a picnic for the middle of winter was a bit of a challenge. But I thought we'd start with some lobster bisque."

Ianto dug out the thermos and the crockery mugs and spoons, handing Jack a large white linen napkin. He handed Jack two champagne flutes and asked him to pour them a drink.

Jack filled their glasses, handed one back to Ianto, and raised his.

"Time for a toast I think."

With twinkling eyes, Jack looked at his lover and said, "To Ianto, my aid in all things."

Seeing Ianto begin to blush, Jack leaned over for a brief kiss, and then looking back at Ianto, continued with, "and here's hoping there are no jellied eels in that basket…"

The two men clinked their glasses, laughing.

"Perish the thought, Sir. There are no jellied eels here, just the soup, some poached local salmon and a nicoise potato salad, and then some fruit and chocolate for dessert."

"So I don't get to be dessert, hmmm?" Jack teased.

"Think of yourself more as a midnight snack… Sir," Ianto teased back.

The two men laughed and talked as they ate their dinner, and by the time they were polishing off the last of the chocolate truffles, Ianto was leaning back against Jack, utterly relaxed. Jack had sneaked his right hand up underneath Ianto's sweater and shirt, and was slowly and softly caressing Ianto's lower back, his warm palm sending gentle shudders up Ianto's spine.

Ianto picked up Jack' s left hand and played with it for a while, running his fingers over Jack's fingers, and then tracing each crease and line of Jack's palm with his index finger. He brought his lover's hand up to his lips and spent a long time just running his lips over Jack's hand, pausing every now and again to kiss a fingertip, or suck off a stray bit of chocolate from the truffles. When he began working Jack's palm with lips and tongue, Jack pulled Ianto tight against him and nuzzled the nape of his neck.

Clasping Jack's hand, and threading their fingers together, Ianto turned slightly so he could look at Jack.

"Are you happy Jack?"

Jack threaded his fingers in Ianto's hair and pulled him in for a kiss, murmuring against his lips, "Oh, yeah…"

Ianto kissed him back, and then turned, settling back against Jack, his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack's arms were around Ianto's waist, and Ianto threaded his fingers back into Jack's and very quietly asked, "Do you think you will remember this night, a thousand years from now?"

"Ianto?"

"I just wonder sometimes how it will be for you, when you look back on the time we spent together. Will you be sitting in a bar somewhere telling people, 'I once had this lover who did all kinds of sexy things with a stopwatch?'"

"Would that bother you?"

Ianto smiled as he replied, "Not really…as long as the story was a good one."

"I'll make it good, I promise," Jack said.

Ianto went back to playing with Jack's fingers as he tried to find the right words.

"There's something else, isn't there Ianto."

"I… well, it's… yeah, I uh…"

"Ianto, what is it?"

"I have one more surprise, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea about it."

"Why would I?"

"I just… it's well… it's a present. Close your eyes, Jack."

"I'm not even looking…"

"Please, Jack. For me."

Jack closed his eyes, and Ianto dug into his overcoat pocket and pulled out a small box. He set it in Jack's left hand, and closed Jack's fingers over it.

"Don't drop it."

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Go ahead."

As Jack went to open the little box, Ianto watched Jack's face closely. Jack opened the lid of the box, and there, inside the box nestled in blue satin, was a silver-colored signet ring, engraved with the letter J.

"It's platinum. I found the original in gold in a little antiques store a long time ago, and I had it copied in a sturdier metal for you."

"You got me a ring?" Jack asked, tonelessly.

Ianto sighed, "It doesn't mean what you think it means."

Ianto pulled away and started packing things up in the picnic basket.

"Wait, Ianto… what do you think I think it means?"

"I knew you'd read too much into this. It's not a proposal… it's just, well… just a keepsake. I wanted to give you something that you could keep that would remind you of me…"

"Oh, Ianto, you sweet 21st century lunatic," Jack cried, pulling Ianto into a huge hug. "Just stop thinking for a minute and listen to me…"

Ianto just looked at Jack, blushing slightly, as Jack continued.

"This beautiful ring means whatever you want it to mean, Ianto. Tell me what it means to you."

Ianto looked down as he tried to answer Jack's question. "Maybe it's that my father was a tailor, but monograms have always meant something to me Jack. Do you remember not long after Lisa finally died, you found me down in the morgue?"

"On her birthday, wasn't it?" Jack asked.

"Yep. She hadn't been gone very long, and I was still struggling with the memories, and you found me there, and sat by me while I cried, and you loaned me your handkerchief because I'd forgotten mine."

"I did?"

"You did. And I remember being struck by the monogram on your handkerchief. I knew at the time it was strange connection to make, but I kept thinking, J for Jack … J for Jones. I was so lost back then, and as stupid as it was it was some small connection between us. And then when you left us, after Abaddon, I used to walk a lot. It gave me something to do to keep my mind off of Torchwood. On one of those walks I saw a gold signet ring in the window of an antique shop with a J on it and I bought it. On the really bad days I would wear it and try to remember the good times. And then after you came back, I forgot about it for a while. But I found it a couple months back, and had it copied by a friend in London who's a jeweler, and then I tried to figure out when was the right time to give it to you."

"Is now the right time?"

"I don't know if there is such a thing. I thought about giving it to you at Christmas, but lately we always seem to be busy during the holidays saving the Earth… so when this trip came up, I thought, "maybe now."

Jack took it out of the box, and put the ring on his left pinky finger.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to Jack. I just wanted you to have it."

Jack looked at it on his hand, turning his hand and watching the flickering lights reflect on it. He paused, then, and pulled it closer, looking puzzled for a minute, and then he turned to Ianto with a huge smile on his face.

"This ring… it's familiar… I've seen it somewhere before haven't I?"

"I don't think so Jack. Have you?"

"You know I have you sneaky bastard. Today's notes. The sealing wax. The J imprinted on the seal. You used the ring!"

"Technically, I used the original," Ianto replied with a smile, pulling it out of his trouser pocket, and slipping it on his right ring finger.

"Now help me pack these things up, and we'll go back to the house and you can get started on the formal thank you note, Sir..."

"You'd better start a file, Ianto," Jack whispered as he pulled Ianto in for a kiss. "I'm going to be thanking you very thoroughly… and for a very long time..."


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING -- this dream imagery ended up creeping me out, and I wrote it. If you have a low squick tolerance, skip down past the italics…**

Chapter 7 – Contradictions

_Cold. Bound. Gagged. Fingers scrabbling. Glass walls and no escape. Metal clanging on and on, over and over, never ending. Drowning in the screams. The smell of burning flesh. Wires hanging, crawling. Seizing. Binding. Thick, sticky blood soaked hallways. Body parts stained with blood. A man's severed hand grasping a baby picture. The constant claxon of a fire alarm. Sprinklers. Water spraying everywhere. Vomit and tears mixing. The sound of bodies hurtling down elevator shafts. Sudden stillness in empty brick alleyways. Lights flickering. The smell of cold damp earth. Rooms screened by sheets of plastic. Men and women begging, pleading. Glass walls pushing closer and closer. Searching. Squeezing. Slipping on piles of paper and laughing at the wonder of a paper cut gained while the world is lost. The smell of jasmine and bleach and sweat. The gritty circular slow slow grinding of a knife on a whetstone. Running. Falling. Smothering in piles of cotton labcoats. Linoleum and sawdust. The tang of raw meat. Tin cans full of maggots. Body parts. A head in a jar staring wide eyed…_

…gasping… falling… clutching… the blessed rescue in the smell of wool … glass cool against his face… soft breaths and whirling heartbeats…

Jack woke suddenly. He lay tense and still as he tried to figure out what had awakened him. He could hear the hiss and clatter of sleet and freezing rain beating against the windows, but he didn't think that alone would have woken him up. He shivered, and went to pull the covers around him when he realized that he was alone in the bed. Jack looked around trying to figure out where Ianto had gotten to, when he saw him silhouetted in the moonlight filtering in through the French doors, staring out into the winter storm and clutching Jack's greatcoat around him.

"Hey you, come back to bed, it's the middle of the night," Jack called softly.

When he got no response, Jack switched on the small bedside lamp and tried again.

"Ianto, come back to bed love, I'm cold."

When Ianto still didn't respond, Jack slid out of bed and crossed to the windows.

"Ianto, what's wrong?" Jack asked quietly, reaching out to rub the younger man's shoulder. At the first touch of Jack's fingers, Ianto snapped out of his reverie, startled to find Jack standing beside him.

"Jack?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Hey. Where were you?" Jack whispered.

Ianto attempted humor. "A galaxy far, far away?"

"I keep telling you…Tatooine is a lousy vacation spot…"

"I like warm sand…"

"Sure, but the lack of any real hospitality industry is a real drag when you're trying to book a hotel room…"

Both men tended to use humor to deflect emotions, but neither of the men was really finding anything funny just at the moment. This well rehearsed bickering was merely a stopgap measure, and they both knew it.

"Bad dream?" Jack asked tenderly, not really needing the nod from Ianto to confirm his suspicions.

Jack gently tugged on the sleeve of his coat, and led Ianto gently across the room, and sat him in one of the plush armchairs by the fireplace. He threw a couple more logs on the fire and got the flames going. Ianto shivered and pulled his bare feet up under him.

One of the many contradictions about Ianto was that despite his innate reticence over public displays of affection, he was at heart a very tactile person. Unfortunately, Ianto was prone to intense nightmares, and Jack's natural inclination to wrap himself around Ianto in order to give comfort backfired fairly spectacularly the first few times he'd tried it as Ianto hated to be touched while he worked to calm himself in the wake of his dreams. Jack had learned to avoid touching the younger man as much as possible in these situations. Jack didn't really understand this. He himself craved touch in the aftermath of his nightmares. Ianto would drape himself over his lover, kissing and stroking Jack, whispering nonsense in Welsh, and generally managed to displace the horrors with the distraction of passion. The first time Jack had tried to reciprocate however, Ianto very nearly choked him to death.

Jack went and got a glass of water from the bathroom. Ianto took it, draining it in one large gulp. Jack refilled the glass and handed it back to Ianto who took a smaller sip this time, and then set it on the small table between the chairs. Jack pulled his t-shirt, boxers, and trousers back on. He draped one of the plaid picnic blankets over the back of Ianto's chair in case it was needed, and then he sat down on the floor in front of Ianto's chair, leaned his head back on the upholstered arm and started crooning some wordless ballad from the twenties.

Ianto dimly knew that Jack was there in the room, hovering at the periphery. He knew they had had a brief conversation, although he wasn't exactly clear on what they'd talked about. In his mind he was still weaving through the echoes of his dream. He was trying to pick apart the memories that had been jammed together into one monster nightmare. He could almost watch himself sorting, filing, and re-indexing the images. He found himself wondering if the disorder in his mind would literally drive him insane one day. And so he sat, lost in his thoughts, mentally tidying his messy brain back into some semblance of order. He was familiar with most of the memories, so it didn't take long to banish them back into their boxes. He pondered the brick alleyway and the hand holding the baby picture for a long time before tossing them in his 'to be filed' pile and decided it was time to get out of his own head.

Jack sighed with relief when he felt Ianto's fingers start to weave themselves through his hair. He shifted so that his head was against Ianto's knees, and the two men sat silently for a few minutes, Jack content to enjoy the feel of fingertips brushing his scalp.

"Talk, or not talk?" he asked Ianto.

"Dunno," came the reply.

"I could tell you about the time I was stranded on a space station that was being over-run with cute fuzzy little space gerbils. Come to think of it, the guy selling the squeaky little rats was called Jones. I wonder if he's some future relative of yours…"

"Jack. How many times have I told you that trying to pass off old Star Trek episodes as 'The Further Adventures of Jack Harkness' won't work."

"You can't prove that they didn't get all that stuff from me. Did I ever tell you about those amazing cocktail waitresses on Rigel Five?"

"Several times…" Ianto huffed.

"Have I mentioned the Isonian Pleasure Palace in the Hobart Cluster?"

"Repeatedly."

"Really?"

"Would you like the dates and times of the conversations?"

"You could do that?"

"Most assuredly."

"Where would I be without that memory of yours?"

"Frankly, I could do without it right now."

Jack smirked, and replied teasingly, "So many memories… so little brain…"

"Sir, are you trying to imply that my brain is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside?"

All was not lost if Ianto's wit had returned, and Jack found himself laughing himself silly over Ianto's last quip. Ianto slid out of the chair and onto the floor next to Jack. Jack leaned over and kissed him, just once, gently on the lips and then put his arm around the other man's shoulder as he launched into another line of inquiry.

"Surely I haven't told you about the parallel universe Tokyo where Godzilla really DOES exist…"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight – Green Eyed Monsters

_a/n: way back when, I had suggestions to include grumpy UNIT officers. Here you go. Mostly I just wanted to take a look at Jack and Ianto from another perspective._

Captain Cedric Clifton thought a lot of himself. He considered himself a fair-minded, well-educated career army man with a job that required him to help save the world on a fairly regular basis. Also, he was good looking, and good in bed. He told himself these things, and at least some of it was true. It all depended upon how you looked at it. What he saw as fair-minded, others might have seen as patronizing. His education could be seen to be the result of money and family connections, rather than any great scholarly leaning. Likewise, his job was more about who he knew that what he knew. As a UNIT Procurement Division Chief, he had rather less to do with saving the world, than he did with making sure everyone got fed and clothed, and had the right ammunition for the battle. And perhaps his looks and his sexual prowess might have caused some people to occasionally refer to him as "Ceddy, that vain slut."

But he was tall, and broad shouldered from years of tennis and rowing, with curly auburn hair and green eyes, and he was pleased with himself when he looked in the mirror. He had perfected an easy grin, and a languid demeanor that usually got him what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was Captain Jack Harkness. Ced and Jack had a lot of chemistry together, and while their relationship was extremely casual, it could be a bit tempestuous. Their typical pattern was to fight very publicly, and then spend a lot of time making-up in private.

But Jack had been at the UNIT conference now for two days, and they had not spoken more than a passing word to each other. Ced was used to being the center of attention, so it disturbed him to find himself sitting at a small table in the corner of the drawing room, stirring sugar into his coffee and watching Jack share his breakfast with another man.

The two men were sitting next to each other at a table in the middle of the room. Neither of them was saying much. Jack was rather untidily slapping butter and jam on his toast, while the other one was reading the paper and sipping his orange juice. To all outward appearances it was just two work colleagues having breakfast together. But Ced had known Jack for too many years not to be able to read the subtle clues about the real nature of the men's relationship. The subtle caress of fingers as the jam pot was handed from one to the other. The way Jack would try and steal strawberries from him and the other man would slap his hand away without ever looking up from his paper. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, sleeves occasionally brushing, they were the picture of intimacy. Ced found his mind going dangerous places as he fixed on the young man's full red lips as Jack tried to feed him a piece of a muffin. The young man blushed so prettily as he smacked Jack's hand away with the back of his fork.

Ced's thoughts were interrupted when someone slid into the chair next to him, intoning sarcastically, "You seem to be losing your touch, Clifton, old man. How does it feel to be second best for a change?"

"Oh, bugger off your highness," Clifton replied. "I don't intend to sit here and watch ruddy Jack Harkness swanning about, flaunting his well-tailored puppy."

"Prat," Simon Thackery, the ninth Earl of Waltham thought to himself as he smiled and watched Captain Clifton stride across the room to the buffet table.

Thackery took a moment to appreciate his strong cup of Earl Grey tea, as he turned his attention back to Jack's companion. The young dark haired man in the immaculate suit was, just at that moment, scrubbing at the Captain's shirt cuff, trying to remove some sort of stain, while simultaneously trying to eat and talk on the phone. Jack kept trying to bat the other man's hands away, but the young man appeared to Thackery to be of the persistent sort, finally distracting the Captain by handing him the phone and asking him to talk to the person on the other end of the line. While Jack was laughing at something said during his phone conversation, his aide got the stain sorted and then purposefully moved the raspberry jam out of the way.

Ianto took his phone back when Jack finished the call, and then moved off to have a word with one of the housemaids hovering behind the buffet table. Thackery watched Ced wander over to Jack, who was reading the paper that had been left on the table. Ostensibly heading across the room for another cup of tea, he wandered closer to the two Captains in case things got out of hand. He overheard Clifton speaking to Jack.

"So, Jack… where's you shadow? I wouldn't have thought you'd tire of your new toy so soon. Jack always did like pretty young things, eh Thackery?" he said, turning in the direction of his colleague.

"With some notable exceptions," Simon replied dryly.

Jack smiled at both men, but with very different smiles.

"Jealous, Ceddy?" Jack asked.

"Hardly. Really old man, your secretary? I mean, I'd heard rumors…"

"You spend too much time around the water cooler, Ced. In any case, I don't have a secretary."

"What else would you call someone who follows you around taking notes, and handing you coffees?"

"I'd call them helpful," Jack huffed. He was about to go on when Ianto glided up to him, handed him a coffee, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to his companions.

"Good morning, all." Turning to Jack he added, "You really have the most atrocious manners, Sir. You never remember to do the introductions. Captain Clifton, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ianto stepped forward to shake the man's hand, introducing himself, "Ianto Jones."

"Jones," Captain Clifton nodded, after a perfunctory handshake.

Ianto turned to the man standing next to Captain Clifton, and gave a small bow, adding, "My Lord…"

"Simon Thackery," he corrected, stepping forward to shake Ianto's hand. "When you come up to Whitehall next, you can give out with that "Right Honorable the Earl of Waltham" claptrap, but around here we're far less formal. It's nice to put a face to a name Ianto Jones. I have a feeling you're the one the PM has to thank for the regular reports we've been getting from Torchwood."

"I'm glad to be of service," Ianto murmured.

Ced just stood there gaping at the utter civility of it all as Jack took a sip of his coffee.

"Ianto is Torchwood's Administrator as well as our Archivist," Jack added, looking at Ced with contempt clearly evident in his eyes.

Ianto smiled as he quipped, "That's just Jack's fancy way of saying I know where the bodies are buried."

Simon watched a strange look pass between Jack and Ianto at the mention of bodies, but was soon distracted by Ianto's next words. The words were surface friendly, and seemingly addressed to Jack and to Simon, but it soon became clear that he was really intending his words for Captain Clifton.

"It's all in knowing where to look, really. All that time in the archives gives me plenty of time to read. And with access to most of the national databases, there's a surprising amount of information you can find … personnel records, memos from internal affairs, governmental briefings, phone records, NHS files. My time at Torchwood London taught me thoroughness, and I worked up a full dossier including complete background checks for all the conference attendees during a couple of sleepless nights. You can learn a lot about a person when you do a full credit check, and cross reference off-shore bank records with international patent applications. Especially when you know what alien tech to be on the lookout for…"

"You certainly do know where the bodies are buried, young man … good for you. Now come along Clifton, and we'll get you some ice for that swollen ego of yours…" and with a nod, the Earl of Waltham swept Captain Clifton out of the room.

"Ianto, you didn't?"

"I did, actually."

"Is there something I should know about Captain Clifton?"

"Captain Clifton has a tendency to interpret his position in Procurement as something other than supporting the troops. Also, there seems to be a direct correlation between his current affair with the head of UNITs Research and Development department and several patent applications for very innovative products that cropped up quite recently. And lastly, I believe that by the time he gets done with his departmental performance review, and the tax audit I have him scheduled for, he might just be grateful that I hacked his off-shore accounts and transferred most of his money elsewhere."

"Did you give yourself a raise with the money?" Jack asked in amazement.

"I think you'll find it's been put to good use, Sir. The bulk of it I transferred into the secure Flat Holm fund. Things could use a bit of sprucing up out there. Oh, and I'm sure the team will be thanking you for their really excellent Christmas bonuses this year."

Jack started laughing, and kept laughing until he was gasping for breath and had to sit back down in his chair.

"Ianto Jones I believe you're jealous."

"Surely not sir. What would I have to be jealous of?" he asked pointedly.

"Ceddy and I, we…"

"Captain Clifton was abusing his powers and deserves what he gets, Jack. That wasn't jealousy, that was doing my job. If I were jealous, would have gotten far more creative than a tax audit."

Ianto allowed himself a satisfying moment as he thought of all the ways he could make Clifton's life very unpleasant. But in the end he just gathered his things and waited for Jack to join him on their way to the first presentation of the day.

He did however make the following note in his PDA for the next day.

_Hack British Air. Re-route Clifton's luggage to Afghanistan._

Ianto wasn't the jealous type. But he very much resented being referred to as a secretary.


	9. Chapter 9

"Every Savage Can Dance – Two Steps Back, One Step Forward"

"_The valet and waiting-maid are placed near the persons of the master and mistress, receiving orders only from them, dressing them, accompanying them in all their journeys, the confidants and agents of their most unguarded moments, of their most secret habits, and of course subject to their commands, -- even to their caprices; they themselves being subject to erring judgment, aggravated by an imperfect education. All that can be expected from such servants is polite manners, modest demeanor, and a respectful reserve, which are indispensable. To these, good sense, good temper, some self-denial, and consideration for the feelings of others… will be useful qualifications."_ -- Mrs. Isabella Beeton's Book of Household Management, 1861. Duties of the Valet, Chapter 2234.

"_The routine of his evening duty is to have the dressing room and study, where there is a separate one, arranged comfortably for his master, the fires lighted, candles prepared, dressing-gown and slippers in their place, and aired, and everything in order that is required for his master's comforts."_ –- Duties of the Valet, Chapter 2242.

Jack leaned back in the tub, luxuriating in the hot, steamy bathwater. The lights were low, and Ianto was humming a soft waltz to himself as he picked up Jack's clothes from the bathroom floor. The tune was one that had been played during many fancy dinners, in many times, and Jack found himself floundering in time a bit. As he lay in the bath, eyes closed, listening, he saw in his mind a house party long ago, and a beautiful girl with whom promises had been exchanged.

The smell of the candle wax, the lavender hand soap on the basin, the gentle scuff of Ianto's shoes on the marble floor took him back to a ballroom in another grand home. There had been a beautiful girl in a soft blue gown, sitting under a potted palm, peering breathless around her fan. Jack had seen her shy eyes, her perfect pink cupid's bow of a mouth, and the pansies tucked into her hair and had swept her onto the dance floor, propriety be damned. He teased her, tasted her, reveling in stolen kisses in shadowy corners of a lush conservatory. He called her his 'sweet heart's ease' as he wooed her. Pursued her, pleased her, bedded her and wedded her. Went down on his knees for their betrothal and on their wedding day, knelt by their marriage bed, and then, too soon, by her deathbed. He took his broken heart to a grave, whose marker even now read "beloved wife and infant child."

A crisp voice floated down through his haze of memory, "Will you be requiring anything else, Sir?"

Jack paused, running his hands over the surface of the bathwater, "You take such good care of me, Ianto. Why?"

"Am I still such a mystery to you?"

Jack opened his eyes and looked up at the man standing in front of him. A man whose own eyes were full of fond afffection for the man he served. At the end of a long day, Ianto still had every button buttoned and his tie was perfectly tucked into his waistcoat. He was in every way, the perfect gentleman's gentleman. His only concession to the lateness of the hour was his suit jacket hung on the hook on the back of the bathroom door, and his wristwatch lying on the vanity counter, precisely where it would be needed the next morning.

"Don't get me wrong. I love the mystery. But I wonder sometimes if I take too much, or you give too much. Like maybe we aren't…"

Ianto cut him off saying, "We've had this conversation," as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

"I know. But maybe we should have it again."

"What were you thinking about Jack, lying there in the tub?"

"Kid gloves."

Ianto perched on the back of the tub, behind Jack, and just chuckled, saying, "Dunk your head for me."

Jack slid under the water for a moment, and then sat back up, marveling at Ianto's capacity to accept random answers. Although Jack knew that Ianto was often frustrated by some of the things Jack did or said, for the most part all that was pushed aside, deftly hidden, or genuinely forgiven and ignored. Ianto's ability to accept what he was willing or able to give him in the way of answers was a quality that Jack truly valued.

Ianto squeezed some shampoo into his hands, and then proceeded to soap Jack's hair. He loved to run his fingers through Jack's hair and he enjoyed the feel of the soap bubbles tickling his palms. Concentrating on finding the tense muscles at the nape of the neck and around the temples, Ianto tried to scrub away the stresses of the day while he figured out how to respond to Jack's line of inquiry.

Jack was making very pleased noises as Ianto worked on some knots in his neck with his thumbs. He didn't resist when Ianto pushed him under the water and ruffled his fingers through his hair, rinsing out the soap. When Ianto let go, Jack sat back up and found his head engulfed in a fluffy white towel. Ianto briskly rubbed most of the moisture out of his hair, and then went back to working on the stiff muscles in Jack's neck and shoulders.

"Do you have any idea how good that feels?"

Ianto kissed the pulse point just under Jack's left ear, and then nipped his earlobe before replying, "You're just full of questions tonight aren't you, Sir?"

Ianto stood up, placing the folded towel over the back of the tub, adding, "Lay back and relax while I get us a drink."

The candles flickered as Ianto opened the bathroom door and slipped into the bedroom. Jack listened to him moving around in the suite. After a few minutes, Ianto came back with a bottle and one glass. He had also changed into a much-washed light blue t-shirt with a barely visible Guinness logo and a pair of striped pajama bottoms. He padded across the room in his bare feet and poured a generous measure of Scotch into a crystal low-ball glass. "Iechyd Da, Jack," he said, and then took a drink, knowing full well that Jack wouldn't be able to take his eyes off the press of his lips against the glass, the movement of the muscles in his throat, or the dark sweep of eyelashes against his cheeks as his eyes slid closed while he drank.

Handing the glass to Jack, he smiled as he curled up on the rug next to the tub. Jack took a long swallow, and then handed the glass back to Ianto. Jack loved this little tradition that they had developed of sharing a single glass in their most private moments together.

Ianto had inadvertently come up with this one night when he found he had only enough coffee ice cream in the freezer for one bowl. So he'd stuck two spoons in the bowl, and they had shared it, curled up on the couch in his flat, watching an old black and white movie. Jack had improved on the custom a few nights later when they had come back to the Hub after an exhausting late night Weevil hunt. He sent Ianto down to his bunk to shower, and Jack grabbed one wine glass from Ianto's well-stocked work area, and slipped down the ladder. He rummaged around in his footlocker and found a bottle of Cabernet he'd been keeping for a special occasion. He uncorked the bottle, and then slipped into the shower with Ianto. Afterwards, tired, but sated, they had curled up in Jack's bed, and had shared a glass of wine together. Ianto had fallen asleep in the middle of telling a story about his father renting a boat to take him fishing on the bay, and Jack had finished off the wine in the glass before curling up next to Ianto and getting a few hours sleep himself.

"Do you remember what happened the first time we tried to have this discussion?" Ianto asked, punctuating his question with a raised eyebrow that Jack knew so very well.

"I remember things improving after we stopped talking and started kissing." Jack leaned over, took the whiskey glass from Ianto, drained it, and handed it back to Ianto. Jack then pulled Ianto in for a long whiskey-flavored kiss, smiling as the glass slipped from Ianto's hand during the kiss and rolled across the floor.

"But do you remember what I said?" Ianto asked as he reluctantly broke off the kiss.

"Before… or after?" Jack smirked as he watched Ianto retrieve the glass and set it carefully on the floor next to the Scotch bottle.

"During, actually."

"Maybe you should remind me how that conversation went."

Ianto felt wet fingers trail up his arm and cup the back of his head, pulling him to his knees as damp-fingered caresses sparked memories of another time and place…

The first quiet night after Jack's return, he had dragged Ianto down to the pub for fish and chips.

"They're just chips, Jack," Ianto had protested.

"I missed chips," Jack said, idly rubbing his right wrist with his left hand, and Ianto wondered how this man who had seen so much, could still seem so like a little boy begging for a goldfish in a shop window.

"Chips it is then," Ianto sighed, almost hating himself for giving in, but Jack's delight slipped under his defenses, and he tried not to smile.

"Don't underestimate chips, Ianto. They're one of the wonders of the universe."

Ianto had helped Jack into his coat, and they had silently ridden the lift up to the Plass.

It had been an awkward meal as they both felt like strangers to each other. They had chatted about the Rugby match on the telly, about things that had happened in Cardiff while Jack was gone, but they hadn't known how to say the things they wanted to say. It started pouring down rain just as they left the pub, intent on getting back to work. They ducked under the awning of a shoe store a few doors down from the pub hoping the rain would soon slack off, and Jack had pulled Ianto into an impulsive kiss. Ianto had leaned into the kiss for one unguarded moment, and then firmly pushed Jack away from him.

"You can't just assume we can pick up where we left off. I don't think I want to."

"Tell me what you do want, Ianto," Jack bristled.

"You can't just come back and start ordering me around. Let's face facts, Sir. You are no longer the master of my fate. I served my time. I did my penance. You're the deserter now, Group Captain," Ianto said as he jabbed his finger into Jack's left shoulder, just underneath the greatcoat's epaulettes.

Ianto knew he should stop talking, but the anger that had been simmering for months boiled over before he could check the words.

"You've became the traitor to Torchwood everyone always said you would be," Ianto spat out.

"Guilty as charged," Jack sneered after a pause, and then continued.

"So what is my punishment? If you plan to make me suffer I warn you I've been worked over by better men than you…"

As Ianto stood facing Jack, hands on his hips, eyes snapping with anger, he noticed Jack again unconsciously rubbing his right wrist. Ianto suspected that whatever had happened to Jack while he was gone, was something that was still affecting him profoundly. It didn't mitigate his anger, but he paused for a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sick of the games Jack. Whatever this is, is spectacularly fucked up. I mean, look where we are," Ianto laughed bitterly, pointing vaguely in the direction of the alley that ran along the side of the shop.

"The first time I saw you in Cardiff you were screwing a girl at the end of this alleyway. Christ, my life really has come full circle…"

Ianto rubbed the back of his neck, and stared out into the rain.

The beginning isn't such a bad place to be, is it Ianto? Don't you sometimes want to have the chance to go back and do things over again?" asked Jack softly.

Ianto wondered to himself if the brutal universe he knew actually had room in it for do-overs. He had no idea that if anyone knew the answer to that question, it was Jack.

Getting no response from Ianto, Jack pushed him out into the drizzle so that they were standing at the end of the alleyway. He leaned into him from behind, putting both hands around his waist, and whispered in his ear, "When you were here watching me in this alley… did you want to be that girl?"

"Truth, Jack?" Ianto asked breathlessly, turning in Jack's arms so they were face to face.

"Tell me true, Ianto," Jack said, slowly running the back of his fingers along Ianto's jaw line.

"I wanted to be you…" Ianto said, eyes downcast, fingers playing with one of the buttons on Jack's greatcoat, and then abruptly, he pushed Jack into the damp alleyway up against the railings of the shoe store's loading dock. Both men were breathing hard and dripping wet from the rain.

"_Take what you want Ianto. Make me give you what you want_," Jack thought suddenly, the thought registering as equal parts desire and desperation.

Ianto grabbed the lapels of Jack's coat and fiercely shoved him up against the brick building in a shadowy corner underneath a fire escape, the length of their bodies hotly plastered together. With a growl of frustration, Ianto rasped out, "Bloody Torchwood."

Jack's laugh is captured in a kiss that seems to go on forever as Ianto reacquaints himself with Jack's mouth. Gasping for air Ianto slips his hands inside the greatcoat, the need for skin-to-skin contact driving him as he yanks Jack's shirt and undershirt untucked.

"_Remember, Jack. Remember the feel of my hands _…" Ianto thinks to himself.

The ability to talk is lost as their lips are soon busy with messy open-mouthed kisses. Jack and Ianto are kissing fiercely as Ianto's hands finds their way around Jack's waist, pulling their hips tighter together, the friction ratcheting up their arousal. Ianto can't think, doesn't want to think, as their bodies move. They mix hot wet kisses seeking flesh, with damp sweaty hands grasping at wool, and cotton, and silk.

The need for oxygen winning out over passion for a few moments, Jack's head drops back against the brick wall, and Ianto takes the opportunity to rake his teeth down Jack's neck.

"I missed you Jack," Ianto says as he wound his fingers in Jack's hair. Gripping the hair in his fingers tightly and pulling just hard enough to make Jack meet his eyes in surprise, he says, "Tell me you missed me…" his voice rough with desire.

Jack stills for a moment, meeting Ianto's gaze and saying finally, "Make sure the questions you ask are ones that you're prepared to hear the answers to…"

"It's time for the truth, Jack," Ianto growls. "Fucking answer the question…"

Jack grabbed Ianto, slammed him up against the wall opposite, and kissed him with a passion that left Ianto dazed, but with no doubts about how much he had been missed.

Before Ianto even really knew how it happened, Jack had his belt and trousers undone, and he felt Jack's cool hand slip inside the waistband of his underwear, his deft stroking causing Ianto to gasp, the muscles in his back shuddering beyond Ianto's ability to control them.

Jack smiled, and asked softly, "Does that answer your question?"

With Jack's fingers ghosting over his erection, Ianto found it rather difficult to think.

When at last he whispered, "Explain it to me again?" Jack smirked and he slid to his knees, running his hands down Ianto sides. With his fingers he pulled Ianto's trousers and underwear down as he ran his tongue across Ianto's hipbone, causing Ianto to whimper Jack's name...

"Jesus, Jack! What the fuck?!" Ianto cried out as Jack pulled him over the tub edge and into the bath, sloshing water everywhere and soaking Ianto to the skin.

Jack rolled them over so that Ianto was pinned against the back of the tub, with Jack straddling his thighs.

"You're a bit overdressed for this situation, don't you think?" Jack crooned, his fingers teasing down the front of Ianto's sodden t-shirt.

"I don't recall a wet t-shirt contest being on the conference schedule, Sir," Ianto said, trying to sound stern, but failing utterly. It didn't help that Jack found a rumpled, wet, flushed and indignant Ianto absolutely adorable.

"Doesn't matter, Ianto… I'm about to disqualify you from the competition. Lift your arms up for me, darlin'," Jack said huskily as he worked his fingers up under the hem of the shirt, and proceeded to peel it off over Ianto's head.

Ianto was momentarily distracted by the sound of his wet t-shirt hitting the bathroom floor, but thoughts of objecting to soggy laundry and ridiculous endearments went right out of his head when Jack leaned in for a deep wet kiss. He tried to fix the memory of laying submerged with Jack in a large iron claw-foot tub in a marble bathroom, kissing as candlelight flickered across their wet bodies, but soon, Ianto found he could think of nothing but lips and teeth and tongue and skin, of fingers twined in damp hair, bodies pressed together, both of them surrendering to the pleasure of this timeless moment of perfect passion.

As the soft purple light of dawn filtered into the room, Jack stood at the window, wrapped in Ianto's dressing gown, smiling as he thought back over the previous evening. Ianto was sleeping face down in the bed, the duvet bunched around his hips. Jack listened to his lover's slow deep breaths that were not quite a snore. Jack guessed that Ianto would sleep deeply for the next few hours.

They had given each other quite a workout. There had been mutual pleasures in the tub, and then as they were drying each other off, Ianto had unexpectedly pinned Jack to the bathmat and put lips that were already swollen from kissing to work. Before Jack thought it possible he came hard and fast in Ianto's mouth. Ianto slid up his body, lay against him and kissed him languidly for a while, finally whispering in his ear, "Turn about is fair play, Sir. Count to ninety-nine and meet me in the other room."

When Jack slipped into the bedroom eighty-seven seconds later he found Ianto standing by the bed, wearing only Jack's greatcoat. Jack crossed to Ianto who changed the rules of the game, when he pushed Jack over the edge of the bed and proceeded to fuck him hard and fast right then and there. In the aftermath, Jack tossed the greatcoat aside and took Ianto to bed. Unable to keep their hands off each other, they sought out their favorite sensitive spots and delighted in driving each other to the brink, over and over again. Eventually they collapsed into a heap in the middle of the bed utterly exhausted, and thoroughly satisfied.

Jack watched the early morning light slide across Ianto's back for a long while, and then pulling the drapes shut, he slipped out of the robe, and crept back under the covers. He snuggled up behind Ianto, wrapping one arm possessively around the other man's waist, and burying his head in the nape of Ianto's neck he lay there, listening to the rise and fall of soft breaths. With a satisfied sigh, Jack closed his eyes and drifted peacefully to sleep.

Fin

_a/n: Whew. What a ride! What started out in my head as a harmless piece of Jack/Ianto fluff ended up something a little more meaningful, a lot more satisfying, and much more of a challenge to write – especially this last chapter. Thanks to everyone who kept encouraging me to continue the tale. The first part of the title of this chapter is a line from "Pride and Prejudice." Darcy, of course, Chapter 6. As originally envisioned this was just another master-servant role-play in a country manor house, so it seemed fitting to end with a bit of Darcy pride. Ironically, the overriding image I had when the story began never even made it into the story… but perhaps it will end up in another story one day._


End file.
